So, a paleontologist walks into the Apple store . . . .

My wife Liz went computer shopping yesterday at the Apple store in the Maine Mall. While she did so, I spent most of my time in a seating area out in the concourse, reading a book.

Eventually, though, I decided to see how Liz was doing, so I wandered into the store, book in hand, and wound my way through the glitzy displays of laptops and phones and watches and assorted technological wonders.

I finally found Liz at the back of the store, but not before a couple of solicitous employees wearing politely suspicious expressions offered to help me. (I think of these ubiquitous Apple store staffers as well-trained gatekeepers, a retail version of the border patrol.)

It was then that I realized what it must feel like to be a paleontologist, for I was roaming the high-tech wilds of the Apple store carrying a book! An actual printed-on-paper book! Talk about your rare fossil.

I held the volume close to my chest, suddenly aware that I had to safeguard this rarest of all possible specimens. For I was carrying the product of technologies so positively ancient and, yes, frightening to techies that they even predate the Apple II computer.

It’s a wonder my prized possession and I escaped unscathed.